Counterfeited
by The-Missing-Paige
Summary: SEQUEL TO SOLD/BARTERED. Edward is distraught after losing Roy, and goes on a rather risky rescue mission. The mission succeeds, but Father isn't done yet, and continues to unleash new homunculi on Central, with a twist that will leave Ed and everyone else reeling.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullemtal Alchemist: Brotherhood, or any related characters.**

**IMPORTANT: This story is the third and final installment of my Sold series. If you have not read Sold and/or Bartered, please read them first so this makes sense.**

**Sold can be found here: s/10150248/1/Sold**

**Bartered here: s/10251836/1/Bartered**

**Please review, I love your feedback~**

* * *

It was dark.

Of course, it was night, yes, but it was also dark also in Edward's mind. The phrase "shut down" seemed appropriate. He didn't know if his eyes were closed or if they were open and unseeing, but he could feel the tears burning them. He could hear, as if from a distance, Alphonse trying to soothe him, but more pressing was the gasping, rhythmic flow of air to his lungs, the too-close sound of his heart beating as though the world hadn't just ended.

Roy was gone. The phrase seemed to echo inside him.

_Gone, gone, gone…_

Edward felt like he was falling into himself, like nothing else was real. He could still picture Roy's face as he was sucked into the homunculus, the sick, ripping sensation he himself had felt as the man disappeared.

Ed found himself thinking of the whorehouse. This trapped, hopeless feeling was one that had been introduced to him in that hellhole. He never thought he would feel it again, not since Roy rescued him…

It was as though a light snapped on, a harsh light, making everything contrast spectacularly. Roy had rescued him from the whorehouse and had been there for him every day since. Now it was Edward's turn to do the same for Roy.

He opened his eyes, becoming aware of his brother shaking him. Al's face was screwed up, and as Ed tuned into his voice, he noticed the not-so-subtle tones of panic.

When he tried to brush Alphonse away, Edward noticed the shrieking pain in his arm. He looked down, saw the blood, remembered the sword. But that didn't matter now.

"Al…Alphonse, let me up."

Alphonse let go of him, but Ed couldn't seem to find his legs. He bent down again and heaved Edward to his feet.

A little wobbly, but nothing he couldn't manage. Ed began to walk, speeding up as he gained confidence in his movements. His little fainting spell, or whatever it was, was over, he had to get moving!

"Brother, wait up!" Al called behind him. Edward heard the sound of footsteps echoing his own as his brother caught up. "Where are you _going_?"

"The firing range." His answer pulled Ed up short, because honestly, he hadn't known himself where he was headed. But as soon as he said the words he knew he was right. Edward couldn't use his alchemy any more, and his fighting was rusty. He needed a weapon, and a gun seemed like a good choice.

Alphonse was beside him now. "Brother, you need a _hospital_."

Edward snorted, wiping away a few traces of wetness on his cheeks. This determination was invigorating, perhaps not logical, but it was sustaining him and giving him hope. He could still get to Roy.

"What I need is to get Roy back. This," he slapped his arm, wincing and then trying to brush it off, "is nothing but a distraction."

Alphonse continued to argue, but Edward drowned him out. Each footstep was a step closer to revenge, he didn't want nurses crowding around him, he wanted to _do _something. Whatever he could.

The firing range was empty. That wasn't a surprise—after all, it was the middle of the night. In any case, Ed preferred it that way. Fewer people worrying at him, fewer distractions, and more concentration he could direct at learning how to shoot a gun.

Of course, he knew the basics. Load it up, point, and squeeze the trigger. But Edward hadn't ever had to use a gun; he didn't know how his aim would be, how fast he would be able to fire shots off, or…anything practical, really.

He headed over to the weapons and…they were locked up.

Ed spun around to face Alphonse. "Please," he requested simply.

He saw Al calculating, glancing from Edward to the guns and back. Slowly, he clapped, placing his hands on the lock.

Edward sighed in relief, picking one at random. "Thank you."

Alphonse tried to dissuade him once more. "Brother, I really think you should reconsider, you can do this after you get your arm treated—"

Ed wasn't listening. He fished around for some bullets, loaded them, and stepped before a well-abused target. He cocked his gun, while Al was in the middle of his little rant, and _squeezed_…

Pain ripped through his injured arm in the aftershock. Edward couldn't help but cry out, drop to his knees to cradle the wound. Alphonse knelt down as well, his voice approaching desperation once more.

Ed huffed, shook himself, and stood up, forcing Al to do the same. He picked up the gun from the ground, having dropped it, and looked at the target.

Well, he didn't see any new holes, but that didn't mean he hadn't hit it. It was possible that he had, but that his addition was invisible amongst the already present rips and tears and divots.

Edward bit his lip, looking around, but every target lined up was already full of holes.

"Alphonse."

"What?" his brother responded, exasperated.

"I need you to make me a target."

His request was met with shocked silence. Then: "Brother, you can't do that again! _You've got a hole in your arm_! You can't shoot right now!"

Ed exploded. "Al, I need this!" he shouted. His brother was quiet, and the night closed in around them as Edward continued, softer. "I have to get him back, Al. I have to do this. Please, I need your help."

Alphonse gave him a long look, before clapping and placing his hands on the ground. Just in front of the old target, a wall of rock rose up.

Edward glanced at his brother gratefully before taking aim again. He was prepared, and so while the recoil of his second try hurt, it wasn't a surprise. Ed still cried out, but he didn't collapse, which was progress.

There was just one problem. The distinct absence of any mark on the rock.

How the hell had he missed _that_?

Edward adjusted his stance, fired once more. Nothing. _Again_. The fourth try yielded pitiful results as well; though he had hit the rock that time, the hole was in the upper right corner.

Ed went kept shooting until the gun clicked, empty. The rock wall had a few holes in it, but none anywhere near the center, where Edward had been aiming.

Frustrated tears rose to his eyes, and Ed let out a tiny scream as he chucked the gun on the ground. Al watched this tiny tantrum with caution in his eyes.

"This is fucking ridiculous!" Edward half-shouted, sounding hysterical. "I can pick up alchemy like it's the easiest thing in the world, become the youngest State Alchemist ever, but I can't _shoot a fucking gun_!?"

He leaned against the wall, fighting for breath. "I can be an prodigy at alchemy, but when that's gone, what do I have left!?"

For the umpteenth time that night, Edward let himself fall to the ground. Ever loyal, his brother kneeled down with him. "Brother," Alphonse whispered.

"I just want to get him back!" Ed sobbed. "He rescued me, but now I can't do anything for him!"

Hesitantly, Al wrapped his arms around Edward, who clung to the only comfort he had now. This was the first hug the brothers had shared since Alphonse had lost his body, and it wasn't the happy event it should have been.

Enveloped by his younger brother, Ed let himself go to the desolation consuming him.

"Goddammit," he whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

Edward was in the hospital when the idea struck him. The doctors were all gone, his arm was a mass of bandages, and the room was empty save his brother.

"Alphonse, I just thought about something."

Al looked at him warily. "What?"

"The gun wouldn't have been much use, anyway," Ed admitted. It was hard to say, but now that he had had time to think about it, he realized how pointless his earlier actions were. He couldn't even call them a plan; there was no method to his frantic attempt at shooting.

His brother nodded. "I know. What could you have done with a gun? You wouldn't have known how to get Roy out even if you were a good shot."

Edward scrunched his face up, not having realized Alphonse had also worked this out. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Brother, you wouldn't have listened. You would have told me I was just trying to slow you down and kept going. I was waiting for you to realize what you were doing wasn't the right thing on your own."

Ed brushed away his irritation. If he was honest with himself, he knew Al was right. He was stubborn that way. "Well, I thought of something else."

"Do I really want to know?"

"I don't have to tell you," Edward snapped. "I just thought…"

"Brother," Alphonse said gently, placing his hand on Ed's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I know this is really…"

"Devastating."

"…devastating for you, and I'll do whatever I can to help you get Roy back."

Edward actually didn't _want_ his brother's help. What he had in mind was dangerous and probably foolhardy, and Al would most likely be needed elsewhere. Still, how was he supposed to explain that?

He decided to elaborate on his plan first. "See, it's really quite simple. If I can't figure out how to get him back from the outside—which I won't, Father would never tell anyone—I might be able to think of something _from the inside_."

Alphonse's face paled. "Please, _please_ tell me you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting."

"I need that new homunculus, Glusttony—"

"What?"

Ed waved his brother off. "Glusttony, it's hard to keep all these homunculi straight without names."

"Brother, that's…terrifying."

"Can I continue?" Edward asked, irritation clouding his features. This was important, and Al was getting hung up on some stupid _name?_ Once his brother nodded, he continued. "I need to get inside of her, be absorbed like Roy was. Then maybe I can get him out from the inside."

Alphonse was silent for a moment. "You realize how many things are wrong with that plan, right? What if the homunculus doesn't work right, what if instead of being inside…_Glusttony_, you die?"

Ed's breathing hitched, and he tried to banish the idea from his mind. If that was the case, Roy…Roy was dead. No, no, no, he couldn't think that! Edward shook his head vigorously, dispelling the thought. "Roy's alive, Al," he whispered. "So that must mean that he's inside Glusttony."

Alphonse's voice was quieter than his own. "Brother…what if he's not?"

Edward looked up at his brother, golden eyes hard. "If there's any chance Roy's alive, I'm going to do what I can to save him. I can't give up on him just because he might be gone. He didn't stop looking for me…" Maybe it was cruel to mention that time to Al, but it was true. When he was stuck in that whorehouse, Roy hadn't called off the search after the first week of his absence, he kept looking, kept the option open that Ed was alive, and he would do the same.

Another pause. "Even if that's the case, how will you get _out_? You have no idea what it's like in there. What if you can't escape, what if you get stuck?"

Ed bit his lip, not sure if he wanted to say the words. That was such a rough time for both of them, the brothers generally tried to not bring it up. But this was important, and he said it. "Al, I'm going to be blunt with you. Roy risked his life for me. That homunculus that was controlling you threatened to cut off his hands and send him through the same torture I went through, but he still protected me. I don't care if I get stuck. I don't care if I _die_. I know he would take this risk for me, and I can't _not_ repay the favor.

"Have you considered," Alphonse responded, "that he won't _want_ you to come after him? He offered himself up so that you wouldn't end up inside Glusttony. What makes you think Roy wants you to go in there anyway just to try to save him? Besides, if there _is_ a way out, don't you think he'll figure it out himself?"

"Al!" Edward finally lost it, slapping his hands down on the thin hospital sheets. "I have to do something! I can't just go on with my life, knowing he's stuck in some homunculus's stomach, hoping he'll find a way out himself! I _know_ I can't use alchemy anymore, and I _know_ I don't understand the situation, but I'm still stubborn, still someone who needs to _help_! I can't sit back and wait for my big, strong boyfriend to handle this on his own; I need to be there with him!"

Alphonse sighed. "How?"

Ed was taken aback at this. "What do you mean?"

"How are you going to get into Glusttony?"

"Just head over to Father's little hideout and get her to poke me? That's the easy part, Al."

However, his brother hit upon the one thing that he couldn't avoid. "You're going to need someone to distract Father. He probably won't want you in there."

"I know," Edward admitted.

"I'll do it."

Ah, yes. This was what Ed had been avoiding, what he had to explain to Alphonse. "As much as I appreciate that, you can't risk yourself like that. Roy needs me more than anyone out here does at the moment, but the military still needs you. Father's planning something, obviously, and they need to be ready to stop him. You have to help with that."

Al only smiled. "Brother, I may be replacing you as a dog of the military, but my first loyalty is still to my family and friends, to you. If you need my help, I'll give it."

Edward tried again. "Al, this really isn't necessary—"

This time the smile was gone. "Actually, it is. I know it wasn't really me, but do you know how guilty I feel about what happened to you? I couldn't resist the homunculus, and you were hurt more than I could ever imagine as a result. When I first came back to consciousness and you wouldn't hug me, that was devastating, and every time you flinch when touch you—I can see it, even when you try to hide it—I just feel worse and worse. _I_ need to do this. I know it's not technically my fault, but I need to repay you somehow. What better time than now?"

Ed swiped a hand across his eyes, trying to control himself. "You know, you're truly the best brother anyone could ever hope to have, Al."

"I try, Brother. I try."

* * *

**What is it about me and hospitals, honestly? **

**Thanks for all the faves/follows guys, glad to see people are still keeping up with the series! I've never written one before, so this is a new and exciting experience for me and the support is awesome!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! So, just to clarify, it _is_ supposed to be Glusttony. That's not a typo. Glusttony is a new homunculus, a combination of Lust and Gluttony. If that doesn't make any sense, you probably haven't read Sold and Bartered, the two fics that come before this one. If you need to, they are linked at the top of the first chapter.**

**Anyway, hope you like!**

* * *

Hospitals shouldn't have windows, especially not on the first floor.

Edward squeezed out of the opening, ignoring the sound of Alphonse urging him to be careful as he landed on the grass. He snickered. No alarms, no guards…of course not, this was a hospital. Why would anyone want to sneak out?

Still, given his past and other buildings he had broken out of, and into, Ed was surprised by the ease with which he left. Al had it even easier, simply walking out the front door. He was, after all, just a visitor.

They were quiet, approaching the tunnels that lead to Father. While they knew several homunculi had been disposed of, neither Edward nor Alphonse could say what Father had been up to lately, with his combinations, and they wanted to be cautious nonetheless.

Edward shivered in the dark, listening to the sound of rain starting to fall aboveground. Some water made its way into the tunnel, and their footsteps began to become splashes as the drizzle on the surface became a downpour. Ed couldn't help but grin; hopefully the noise would mask their entrance. It was if even nature was trying to help him get Roy back.

Finally, they rounded the last corner and saw a faint light that was the entrance to the hideout. Edward breathed in deeply, felt Al's reassuring hand on his shoulder.

They charged inside.

Father spun around instantly, his surprise morphing into irritation in a flash. However, as Alphonse lunged at him, he did not seem perturbed, simply pushing him away and issuing an order to the surrounding shadows. "Take the younger one. Leave the older one to me."

Edward scowled, eyes darting around to try to spot Glusttony as she came out. There—

His train of thought was interrupted by a rock, transmuted by Father, crashing into his stomach. Ed lay there winded for but a moment before he forced himself to move, rolling to avoid another blow and then heaving himself to his feet. As he ran for Glusttony, Alphonse went after Father again, doing just as little damage as the first time but at least distracting him for a moment.

Ed was in front of Glusttony, and she giggled. "The young one, must be you, you're shorter, right?"

For the first time in his life, Edward was glad for his small stature. "Yes!" he shouted, hurrying to get her to act. "I'm the young one!"

Father roared, but Glusttony's nails were already shooting out, hitting Ed squarely in the chest. He felt the most curious suction, and then a painful pulling. He cried out, but couldn't hear himself. Everything went dark, and suddenly he felt as though he was falling.

An eye opened up below him, and Edward's heart skipped a beat. It couldn't be, but…what other explanation was there? The only other time he had seen anything like that was when he had gone to the Gate…

And then Ed had fallen through it, hit something hard, and blacked out.

* * *

"You _imbecile_!" Father screamed. Alphonse's already racing heart accelerated. He had never seen Father angry like this, and it didn't bode well for him. At this point, according to the plan, he should be escaping, but it was proving difficult as Father blocked his path, aiming blows at him even as he berated Glusttony. "_This_ one's the young one!"

Looking over his shoulder, Al glimpsed Glusttony tilt her head in confusion. "Not the other one?"

"No!" Father bellowed. "_This one_! Get him!" Glusttony began to move, but Alphonse was running, though Father continued to waylay him. "Dammit, Sloth, get in here!"

A massive shadow just in front of Al stepped forward, and his eyes dilated as he backtracked as fast as possible.

Father was still shouting. "Get the boy! Feed him to the other one!"

The shadow, Sloth, rumbled behind Alphonse. "I have to grab him? What a drag…"

* * *

Edward gasped as he woke. He didn't feel rested, but he sat up, eager to escape the strange sleep. He had been under the impression he wasn't going to wake up…

Ed shook his head to dispel the thoughts, and stood up. At the sloshing noise, he looked down, immediately recoiling in horror. He was standing in blood.

His head whipped back and forth, eyes widening as he took in the scene around him. This…this was the inside of Glusttony, right? Or at the very least, this was the place he had been sent to, the same place Roy would have been sent to. A lake, an ocean of blood.

There was no one there, nothing but the blood and a few pieces of what looked like buildings. Edward began to panic, despite his best efforts not to. "Roy!" he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth for amplification. "Roy!"

He received no response, no answering voice speaking his own name, not even an echo of his desperate words. Ed collapsed to his knees, not even wincing at the blood that washed over his pants, stained his coat and gloves, worked its way into the grooves of his automail.

How was he supposed to find Roy in a place as vast as this?

* * *

Alphonse fought as hard as he could, avoiding with all his might the slow, steady footsteps behind him. But when the footsteps disappeared, and in the same instant he was lifted high above the ground, arms like tree trunks restraining him, what was he to do?

Father stood before him, eyes alight with fury. Al wouldn't have been surprised if he had caught fire as he watched. "Now, take him!"

Alphonse's gaze shifted to Glusttony, to her slack smile as she lengthened her nails, aiming them at Alphonse. One, two, three, four nails hit his chest and stomach—the final missed, hit Sloth's arm—and he was drawn inside, grimacing at the feeling of being sucked and squeezed. He heard Father yell, an indignant, frustrated noise, and then he was falling.

But, he noticed absently, the arms around him were not gone. Their grip loosened, but as Al could not seem to move to get free, suspended in freefall over—he gulped—a massive eye, one that looked strangely, terrifyingly familiar.

And nothing.

* * *

Edward had been about to leave when he heard a splash, loud behind him. A wave of blood washed over his head, and he spluttered, shaking the wet liquid out of his eyes, squeezing it out of his hair. Ed turned around, and saw Al locked in the grasp of a massive…man? Homunculus? The latter seemed more likely, though Edward hadn't seen this one before. Of course, lately that meant nothing at all.

He walked back the few steps, grabbed Al's arm, and heaved, yanking him from the homunculus's grasp as the blood flooded back into the momentary gap. Edward held him up, slapping his face gently as a great moan came from the homunculus.

"I fell…what a drag…"

More slapping. Ed had no idea what this homunculus could do, and he didn't want to find out. "Alphonse!" he hissed.

His brother's eyes slid open slowly. He gasped, grabbed at Edward's face. "Brother!"

"Al, we have to get out of here!" Ed watched, but the homunculus wasn't moving. Actually, it seemed perfectly content to not do anything at all.

Alphonse stood up, and followed Edward's gaze, gasping as he took in the bloody ocean. "Where are we?"

"I'm assuming this is the inside of Glusttony, but…I can't be certain. Who's that guy?"

"Sloth," Al mused. "He doesn't seem too dangerous now that Father's not urging him on."

Edward sighed. "Let's hope he lives up to his name, then."

"Brother, is…is Roy not here?"

Ed looked around, even now not giving up. "No, he has to be here. We were absorbed the same way; we must have been taken to the same place. Just look, Al. You can't even see any walls, or edges, or whatever, there's just some debris scattered about. This place is _huge_. He's in here somewhere—it's just a matter of finding him."

That was what Edward believed, and nothing Alphonse said was going to change his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

Edward wanted to set out looking for Roy right away, but Al was being difficult.

"Brother, we have to consider how we're going to get out! What if we have to stay where we landed?"

Ed was pacing, the blood splashing around his legs, mirroring his agitation. "I don't _want_ to get out without Roy."

"We still need more of a plan though!" Alphonse insisted.

He groaned. "Okay, what if we use Sloth as a landmark?"

His brother rolled his eyes. "We won't be able to see him if we get too far away, Brother."

Edward spun around, kicking Sloth in the side. The massive homunculus didn't move, just moaned slightly. "What if we transmuted the blood to keep him here—even though I don't think he'll move—and then freeze some wherever we walk, so that we have a path?"

"That…could work."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

Al kneeled down and clapped his hands, freezing the blood in place around Sloth. He paused. "Which way are we going?"

Ed looked around, doing a full three sixty, coat whipping out behind him. "That way," he pointed, choosing at random.

Alphonse transmuted an arrow pointing in the designated direction, and stood up, allowing Edward to take the lead.

* * *

After even such a short period of searching, Ed was beginning to feel hopeless. They could no longer see Sloth, and had been meandering about in different directions as he tried to quell his panic. Edward had left the path to Alphonse; he couldn't use alchemy, and besides, he wasn't too concerned with getting back at the moment.

"Roy!" he called again, cupping his hands as always. Ed stopped then, hoping for an answering shout, but none came. He trudged a few more steps, and turned, not really deciding to do so but simply wishing that his feet would somehow know where to go.

Ahead, there was a corner of a building, situated in such a way that it looked rather like a bench to Edward. He made his way over, and sat down, putting his head between his knees.

As Alphonse splashed over uncertainly, his stomach growled.

"How long do you think we've been in here?"

"It's hard to say, Brother. Neither of us have a watch. It might have been a few hours, or not even one."

Ed sighed, and stood back up. "Right, then. No reason to stop. I'll go until I can't go anymore."

And so they kept walking. Every twenty feet or so, Al would transmute a bit more of the blood, marking their path, while Edward kept shouting for Roy.

* * *

Ed had fallen three times now. He didn't know whether it was hunger, exhaustion, or that fact that his increasing feeling of hopelessness was draining his energy. The falls had left him covered in blood, even more so than before. He tried to tell himself that the wetness he felt on his cheeks was just left over from his latest collapse.

"Brother, maybe we should stop."

"No," he whispered, trying to conserve his voice.

"You're literally falling over with exhaustion," Alphonse insisted. "You need to rest."

"You can rest if you want; _I'm_ going to keep looking." Edward scowled as his voice cracked on the last few words. "I'm going to find him."

"Eventually, yes, but shouldn't we get our strength back?"

"With what, Al?" Ed rounded on his brother. "We have no food, no water, and there's nothing here to sit on and rest anyway. We have to keep going."

"I can transmute water from the blood, Brother."

Edward turned back, ignored him, and kept walking.

"Roy!...Roy…Roy?"

* * *

Edward finally gave in as his knees gave _out_. He crumpled, splashing into the blood until he was kneeling on the ground. His shoulders shook with sobs.

"I have to—keep going!"

"Brother…" Al rested a hand on his shoulder, lowering himself to the ground as well. "Just rest. You can try again later."

Ed knew he couldn't move, but he could still scream. He'd yell until his voice gave out, and then he'd have to get back up again and keep going. This place couldn't go on forever. Roy was somewhere here.

"Roy!" he shouted. Not loud enough. Edward coughed, tried again, bellowed the name over and over. "Roy! Roy! ROY!"

* * *

Roy woke from his half-sleep and started. He had been sure he had heard his name, as an echo…but it must have been a dream.

"Roy…"

No, it was real. Roy stood up, shaky but at least somewhat rested. The voice was faint, and maybe he was hallucinating, but…it seemed like someone was calling for him.

In this endless ocean of blood and ruins, Roy was alone. Even if there was no one shouting for him and he was finally losing his mind, he'd check to make sure. It couldn't hurt.

Roy trudged toward what he thought was the direction the shout had come from, even as he heard another one. And, a few paces later, another.

He couldn't be imagining this, right?

Roy broke out into a jog, and could have sworn the voice got just a little louder as did so.

* * *

Edward's voice was rasping. He couldn't even look up now, just do his best, pitiful impression of a yell. "Roy…"

And that was it. He was done. Al had gotten some water out of the bloody ocean, and that had helped for a while, but while liquids could cure the rawness of his throat, they couldn't rejuvenate his tired vocal cords. Ed opened his mouth to try again, and thought better of it, instead putting his energy towards standing up. He managed, and took a step forward.

"Wait, Brother, I have to mark our path—"

But Edward wasn't listening. Up ahead, out of the gloom…that was a shape, right? A moving shape? Ed tried to keep his hope in check, it could be anything—it could be dangerous. But the faint sound of rhythmic splashing came to him, and as the shape got closer, its outline cleared. A man.

"Roy!" Edward croaked, taking a step forward, and then another. "Al, it's Roy!"

Ed took off, forcing his spent muscles to keep going just a little longer, laughing silently in joy. As he neared the figure, he saw that it _was_ Roy, gloriously Roy. The man was drenched, his hair mussed, his jacket missing, and stubble growing on his chin, but it was Roy.

Edward didn't bother to consider the fact that he was also covered in blood, didn't think about how crazy he must look before launching himself at his lover.

* * *

Roy laughed, even as he stumbled from the force of the impact. Edward was clinging to him, arms locked around his middle, sobbing and smiling all at once. Roy couldn't believe it—part of him didn't want to believe it. The whole point of being taken was to keep Ed safe, and yet the boy was here, having put himself in danger regardless of Roy's actions.

Still, he couldn't deny that he had missed the blonde.

Roy pulled Edward up as he himself leaned down, and kissed the boy. Neither one of them could stop smiling, and he could sense no trace of the previous hesitancy in Ed as they embraced. Emboldened, Roy didn't remove his mouth, refusing to end their reunion.

Until a small cough interrupted him.

"Guys, as sweet as it is that you're back together, I _really_ don't need to see this."

Roy pulled back, still holding Edward, and smiled sheepishly at Alphonse. "Sorry."

"I'm not!" Ed pouted, his response surprisingly soft.

"What happened to your voice?" he asked.

"I was yelling for you!"

Roy laughed again, trying to untangle the blonde's blood caked hair with his fingers. "I thought you were supposed to keep this one out of harm's way, Al."

"With all due respect sir, how the hell do you expect me to stop Brother when he's on a mission?"

Smiles all around, and one tongue stuck out by Edward. "I had to find you!" he insisted. "You can't just leave me alone like that, I get all wired."

"It's true," Al confirmed. "He was like a demon."

"Well," Roy chuckled, still refusing to let go of the boy. "You're here now."

Though he smiled, and Ed grinned right back at him, Roy knew they were thinking the same thing: now they had to get out.


	5. Chapter 5

"Did you guys…see anything strange when you were absorbed?" Ed asked as they sloshed back towards their entry point. He was impressed by how well Alphonse had marked their path.

"Yeah, you might say that," Roy muttered.

"I…I thought I saw the Gate, Brother," Al admitted. "That eye?"

"Yeah, same here. I fell through the eye and wound up here. Roy?"

"Yep, that's what happened to me, too," the man confirmed. "So that's what the Gate looked like?"

Edward and Alphonse glanced at each other. "Kind of," Ed mused. "The eye's definitely the same, but…that wasn't the Gate, not really. I can't explain what that was like, exactly, but this is different. For one thing, there's no Truth waiting here."

Roy raised his eyebrows, but didn't question Edward further.

"The thing I'm wondering is, this place obviously works like the Gate on the way in. What about on the way _out_?"

"You're saying that we might be able to use something to transmute ourselves out, Brother?"

Ed nodded. "It's possible."

"Sloth," Roy murmured. "He's got a Philosopher's Stone inside of him, right? We can use him."

Edward paused, rounding on Roy. "That Stone was made of people! We can't use them!" he hissed.

The man held up his hands. "What else are we going to use, Ed? We are _not_ going to use one of ourselves, and I highly doubt any of these ruins would work."

Ed turned back and continued walking, biting his lip. "I know," he said at last. "But how could we do that to those poor people? Use them just to save ourselves?"

"Brother, they can hardly be happy where they are," Al interjected. "Maybe it would be better for them…if they were just used and then could be gone, instead of being trapped in there, in Sloth."

Edward tried to imagine it. If it were him, would he want to be used up so that his soul was no longer imprisoned? The thought of mulling around, perhaps with the knowledge that you were being used for evil, for all eternity just waiting to be allowed to disappear… "Maybe you're right. But it still feels wrong."

Roy grabbed Ed's hand, squeezing it gently. "We can't stay here, you know. We have to get out somehow. I don't know what Father's plan is, but…if we don't escape, we won't be able to stop him. This is the only way."

Sighing, Edward walked on, silent. It made sense. It would probably even be a release for the souls. But still, there was just something…immoral about the situation that made him queasy.

* * *

By the time they reached Sloth, the trio was exhausted. Each had been walking for who knows how long, and Roy's stomach was growling.

"Sorry," he muttered, as the noise started up again. "But there's nothing to eat down here."

Edward touched the man's stomach gently, an involuntary gesture. It did nothing, but Roy chuckled, smiling down at him.

"So," Alphonse asked, rolling his eyes at the display. "Shall we get down to it?"

"Wait," Ed insisted.

"Brother, we have to do this!"

"I _know_," Edward agreed. "I just want to see if he knows anything. The whole point of using the Stone is so that we can get back to everyone else and stop Father. But we don't even know what he's planning. Sloth might have some information.

He knelt down, and tapped Sloth on the forehead. "Hey, I have a few questions."

"Questions…such a drag…" the homunculus intoned.

Taking this as a good sign, Ed continued. "What's Father trying to do?"

"Becoming a god…seems like so much work to me…"

Become a god? Edward glanced up at Roy and Al, who only shrugged. Apparently, that didn't make sense to them either. "How's he going to become a _god_?"

"The tunnels were a circle…so much digging…such a drag."

Ed didn't know if the homunculus was trying to avoid telling them everything, or was just as lazy as his name implied. Seriously, would it kill him to use a sentence? "What tunnels?"

"Under Amestris…long tunnels…it took so long to dig."

"Brother," Al whispered, as though Sloth was in a trance and he didn't want to break it. "He's saying there are tunnels all over Amestris? And that's a transmutation circle?"

"It would be like a giant Philosopher's Stone," Roy breathed. "If he used the souls of everyone in Amestris."

Edward's eyes widened in horror. "Fuck." The word didn't cover it. A nationwide transmutation circle was beyond terrible. It would be the end of the world. He turned to Sloth, angry now. "When!? When's this going to happen?"

"The Promised Day…"

"When!?" Ed shrieked, smacking the homunculus on the chest. Sloth broke his arm free of the solidified blood, smacking Edward down.

"Promised Day…"

Roy took over the interrogation, kneeling beside Ed as he shook his head to clear it. "When's that?"

"Two weeks…time is such a drag…"

Edward gaped, glancing at Roy and Al. "That's so soon, though," he whispered. "How…?"

"We can do it, Ed," Roy insisted. "We can handle this." But though his words were confident, his eyes shone with worry.

"Brother, we have to get back up there, now."

"I know." Edward stood, thrusting his right arm out. "Here. Father's probably going to be there when we get out. I'll need to have _something_ I can fight with."

Alphonse clapped and grabbed the automail, transmuting a blade on it as Ed had done so many times on his own.

"You know," Roy murmured, "we're going to have to deal with Sloth, Father, and the homunculus we're currently inside."

"Glusttony," Edward coughed.

Roy rolled his eyes and snorted. "Only you. Okay, Glusttony then. Sloth, Father, and Glusttony. Can we handle that?"

"If we could get Glusttony to absorb Sloth again, that would take care of the one problem," Alphonse suggested. "Then it would just be Father and her."

"What do you think would happen," Ed mused, "if Glusttony absorbed herself?"

Roy, to everyone's surprise, smiled. "I don't know, but I'd bet it would be distracting…and painful."

Edward clapped, rubbing his hands together. "It's worth a shot, then. We'll have to get Sloth to be absorbed—hopefully that won't be too hard, if we can get Glusttony to aim for us and miss."

"That's quite a risk, Brother. What if she doesn't miss?"

"She's going to be aiming for us, anyway. We'll have to avoid her nails, so we might as well try to get rid of Sloth in the meantime."

His brother nodded, expression still nervous.

"And after that, I'll go after Glusttony, and you two can go for Father."

"Sounds good," Roy decided.

"Alright then. Al?"

They each placed a hand on Sloth, and Alphonse clapped.


	6. Chapter 6

Emerging out of Glusttony would not have been half as dramatic as going _in_, had it not been for the fact that they came face to face with Father as soon as they did so.

Glusttony made a small noise of surprise, her view blocked by Sloth's mass. Father growled. "I'm beginning to find your spirit _irritating_."

Immediately, Alphonse ran towards Father, while Roy snapped, causing Glusttony to light up. The female homunculus screamed, and as the red sparks started up to heal her, Edward pushed her into Sloth. They both went down, and after a moment of tense waiting, Ed saw Sloth begin to be absorbed into Glusttony.

Okay. That was step one done.

But Edward hadn't been paying attention to Father, had assumed that Roy and Al were holding him at bay, and was surprised by the rock that rose up to smack him sideways. He fell to the ground with a huff, winded.

The floor lifted below him, and then dropped suddenly, causing Ed to fall a solid ten feet back down. He tried to gasp but couldn't, trying to catch his breath as a small light in the corner of his eye telling him Roy was still okay.

Edward saw something headed for him, and barely rolled away in time to avoid getting caught by one of Glusttony's nails. He forced himself to his feet and sprung at the homunculus, grabbing her arm and twisting it behind her back. As he pushed harder, red sparks erupted to heal the muscles, but Ed kept pulling, until—

Glusttony's nail made contact with her back.

The female homunculus made the most horrible noise, something between a gasp and a gurgle. Her whole body lurched backwards, as though she was shrinking down into just her arm…and then a hand, floating in the air, and then nothing. A soft noise, like a miniature explosion, signaled her disappearance, and that was that.

Ed stood watching the spectacle, surprised by the swiftness with which the situation had been taken care of. It shouldn't have been that easy—

Suddenly an arm was around his neck, pulling him almost clear of the ground. Edward was forced to tiptoe so that he wasn't held aloft. He jabbed at the arm with his transmuted automail, but Father didn't move, healing himself as he spoke. "Don't move. It's so easy to decapitate him, you know…" Ed let out a strangled gasp as Father squeezed. If he didn't get out, his head would pop like a balloon.

He looked around, and saw Roy approaching, his fingers poised to snap but his eyes tortured. Alphonse crept behind him.

Edward could have laughed, if he had had the breath. He had gone through all the trouble to save Roy, and now he'd have to be killed so they could handle Father.

* * *

"Roy," Alphonse whispered as he came up beside him. "You know what we have to do."

"Don't even, Al." Roy's voice was hard, taut like a wire. "Don't you dare."

"He'd be okay, if you aimed it right."

Roy turned to him, murder in his eyes and in his clenched teeth. "I _will not _hurt him. I won't do it, Alphonse."

"It's the only way," Al insisted.

Roy took in the scene before him. Edward, his breathing coming fast and shallow, trying his hardest to remain on the ground with Father's arm wrapped neatly around his fragile throat. He met Father's gaze, and the bastard flexed, causing Ed to choke.

"Roy, if you don't do this, I will," Alphonse threatened. "It would work better with the fire, but I'm sure I can manage something as well."

Roy felt weighed down, his chest mirroring Ed's as they both fought for breath. No matter what he did, the boy would be hurt, maybe killed. He couldn't win.

He locked eyes with the blonde, saw the pleading in them. Edward knew what the only option was; he _wanted_ to be hurt, didn't want Father to get away with what he was doing. He would risk himself for everyone else.

Roy blinked away tears, steeling himself. Ed would be fine. Injured, but not dead.

He wouldn't let that happen.

"Edward," Roy called softly. "I'm sorry. I—I have to." He choked, forced himself to continue. "I'll fix this, I promise. I'll save you. I won't let you die."

The boy nodded, even as Father frowned and lifted him higher, Ed's weight now supported only by his neck.

Roy snapped.

* * *

It was a curious thing, every time his automail broke. Edward could feel the ability to move end, feel the loss of his arm, but couldn't register any pain.

This time, he felt it. The searing, impossible heat, as though the sun had collapsed onto his arm. The metal exploded, sending shrapnel in every direction.

The blast hit is face, and Ed screamed silently, his position not allowing enough air to his lungs to make a noise.

He was burning, burning, everything hurt. Edward couldn't feel anything, suddenly, except for the white-hot metal hitting his face, the fire rushing against his cheek. His hair was crackling, his eyes were clenched shut, but the flames illuminated the scene through his eyelids, until they hit his right eye. Again, the screaming—had he ever stopped?

And then the ground. Vaguely, Edward registered that Father must have dropped him, and he sucked in great, painful gulps of air. It felt as though it had been years that he was aflame, but how long could it have been?

The fire may have been gone but he still burned, still could not rid himself of the pain. He opened his eyes, water spilling from them as though to ease his suffering, but it did nothing. Through blurred vision—only from the left eye, where had the right gone?—Ed spotted Roy, and tried to move towards him. Nothing happened, he couldn't do it—somehow he was on his face, on the ground, and that was a thousand times worse, the hardness on his ravaged flesh.

Edward was sobbing, screaming, and someone lifted him into the air. Wind began to rush against his face, even that tiny friction making his nerves stand on end.

He felt his grip on consciousness fade, and oh, the blackness felt so good, so much better than the jarring he felt as whoever was holding him moved. The last thing he heard before passing out was a lullaby, so out of place, a simple chorus of two words.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

Roy scooped Ed up, trying not to look at the boy's face, to not realize what he had just done. The tears were trying to fall, but he had to see; this was their only chance for escape, while Father was burning just as Edward was …

He allowed himself one sob, and then sprinted towards the exit, Al already on his way out. Everyone was screaming; Father, the blonde in his arms, Alphonse…maybe even Roy himself.

They ran through the tunnels, Roy snapping along the way to try to stop any pursuit. Ed was limp in his grasp, finally silent, but the quiet was so much more terrifying than the screams had been. Only the faint, ragged sound of his breathing prevented Roy from falling into despair.

He was possessed by guilt, terrible guilt.

Even though he knew Edward was unconscious, and couldn't hear him, Roy couldn't stop himself from apologizing, over and over again. What he had done was, in his mind, unforgivable, and that was the most he could do to atone.

"I'm sorry, Ed. I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"


	7. Chapter 7

Roy felt as though he was caving in. His chest was heavy, panting although he was sitting down, his head full of a crushing pressure. Surely he would collapse inward and disappear; at this point, he wanted to. He wanted to ignore what was lying in front of him.

But he couldn't. He could never ignore Edward.

The boy lay there on a hospital bed, unconscious as when he had come in several hours ago. His automail arm was, of course, missing, and the right of his torso was an angry red. Ed's face, however, had taken the brunt of the burns.

The skin was pure crimson, from chin to hairline, on the right side of his face (or left, from Roy's perspective). Some patches, where the metal from his arm had hit him, were scorched black, and some places were stripped of skin entirely, blood leaking out slowly. Perhaps worst of all, was Edward's one eye.

His eyelid looked like the rest of his face, but when the doctor had lifted it carefully, he had revealed that the blonde (now with half of his bangs cut short due to the fire as well) had been blinded. The once-gold iris had paled, and the white surrounding it was painfully bloodshot. The doctor couldn't guess how long it would be before Ed would get his sight back, it he would at all.

Of course, all of this was covered by thick layers of gauze and medical tape, the fragile tools that were trying to hold Edward together. But Roy had remained in the room as the doctor was attending to the boy, and the image of his ruined face was burned—oh, the irony—into his mind.

And it was all his fault.

Roy wanted to bury his face in his hands, but he couldn't. He owed it to the blonde to see what he had done, and so he did not hide the tears that fell from his face. Alphonse, sitting across from him, looked similarly tortured. But at least _he_ hadn't struck the blow, hadn't directly caused this.

The echoes of Edward's screams rang in Roy's ears, and he could not resist reaching for the boy's knee; he was afraid to touch any higher, with the faint line of burns running even down his side to the edge of his boxers. Normally, the doctor would have given him a hospital gown, but in this case, he had wanted to allow the burns time to calm.

He didn't deserve to touch the blonde, but all Roy wanted to do was hold Ed and whisper apologies into his ear until he didn't have any breath left.

Time was distorted; Roy had no idea how long it had been, or even exactly when he had done this to Edward. Similarly, everything but his guilty vigil was forgotten; returning to work, going home, eating something…none of it was important. The doctor had had to force him to change out of his bloodstained uniform, and since then Roy had not left Ed's side.

How could he?

It wasn't until the next day that Ed woke up. Roy was ashamed to admit that he was sleeping when it happened, a tiny voice next to him murmuring his name, laced with pain. "Roy."

He jumped up, knocking his chair over. Alphonse leaned over the bed, eyes wide and disbelieving. "Ed!" he gasped. "Oh, god."

The boy made a weak attempt at a smile, though it crumpled as the right side of his face stretched. After a whimper of pain, Ed continued with what he was going to say. "Don't you dare get all religious on me."

A squeak made Roy raise his eyes from the blonde, only to see Al sneaking out the door. He put his finger to his lips, and Roy flashed a grateful smile before turning back to Edward. Al was a good kid, kind enough to give Roy his privacy as he attempted to atone for what he had done.

"Ed, I…I'm sorry." His voice broke, and he wiped away tears.

Ed turned, wincing but determined, and swiped his hand across Roy's face, his IV stretching to the breaking point. "Don't be," he whispered. "You had to." He let himself fall back down, chest heaving with even such a small effort. He huffed. "Come around to this side, I want to touch you."

Roy did as he was bid, unable to speak.

"Well, sit down."

Roy sat, gently placing his palm on the uninjured portion of Ed's chest. The touch was like a release; hearing the boy breathe, feeling the rise and fall of his body, proved that he would be more or less okay. Roy slid off the bed, kneeling on the ground and pressing his face into Edward's side.

The blonde giggled slightly, running his fingers through Roy's hair.

"I can't believe I did this to you," Roy whispered. "I'm supposed to be the person you can trust, and here I am, fucking you up."

"It's not that bad," Edward murmured.

Roy laughed humorlessly. "You haven't seen your face."

For the first time since he woke up, Ed was quiet. When he spoke again, it sounded like he was going to cry. "You…aren't going to leave me, are you?"

Roy lifted his head, raising himself into a crouch so as to better see the boy's face—or rather, the small portion of it that was visible. "Of course not! Do you think I would have waited here for you to wake up if I was?"

"But if I'm—if I'm _disfigured_…"

Roy took a chance, kissed the boy. It was awkward, with him aiming for just the corner of Ed's mouth so as to not hurt the tender skin under the gauze, but he felt the blonde smile beneath him.

He pulled away, hovering over Edward. "I love you. I'm sorry."

"I love you too," Ed grinned, one eye tearing up at the motion but refusing to stop. Roy couldn't help but smile back.

"Roy?" the blonde asked. "Why…why can't I see?"

What a question. "You…you've got gauze over your eye, Ed."

The boy pouted, not satisfied with this answer. "But I'm opening my eye—or at least, I think I am—and I don't even see that. I should be able to see some shadows, but...it's all black on that side."

Roy choked, but forced the answer out. "You—you've gone blind in that eye. It might be temporary, but…"

Edward was quiet, his one eye ponderous. "That's okay," he said finally. "I guess now I'm just a walking conversation starter."

"Ed, it's not a joke. Look what I did to you…"

"It doesn't matter!" Edward insisted, surprisingly strong for someone recovering from such wounds. "I have you back, you're with me, and we're both alive. That's all I care about."

Roy leaned down and hugged the uninjured half of the boy gently.

"Roy, can you get a nurse? I…think I need some medication."

He pressed the call button without moving, merely nodding his head against Ed's stomach.

The nurse bustled in, coughing to interrupt the scene. "Did he need something?"

"Yes," Roy answered, standing upright, not particularly bothered by being caught holding the boy. "He's in pain. Could you get him anything?"

The nurse nodded, and walked over to his IV, adjusting a knob. A clear fluid began to drip down. "Now this is going to make you a little drowsy, Mr.—" she consulted her chart "—Elric. But that's good, you need to rest."

She left, and Roy slowly stroked Edward's arm as his visible eyelid grew heavy.

"Roy?" the blonde murmured. "What about Father? The Promised Day…"

"Shh, don't worry about that. You just sleep. You get better. Everything will be okay, I promise."

"Stay." It was a demand, not a request, and it made Roy smile.

"Where else would I want to go? I'm here, Ed. I'm here."


	8. Chapter 8

Father paced his chamber, solitary footfalls echoing around. He was alone now, all of his homunculi having been taken out.

He knew what his mistake had been; by combining homunculi, Father had made them more powerful, but he had also lessened the number of adversaries his enemies would have to face. Now, faced with no homunculi to do his bidding, Father had to do _something_.

The obvious solution was to create a new homunculus, not by combining two existing ones, but by removing another emotion from himself.

But which emotion? Father had already removed his sins. He could rid himself of anger, the rage that was boiling inside him at the thought that a miniscule, useless boy could best him for the sake of _love_.

Father stopped pacing, standing straight. Of course. What had been the cause of his bad luck lately? The love between Edward and the Flame Alchemist. Love was a destructive force, he could see that now; it could bring people together, but what would happen if one side lost the feeling? Pain, desolation. And what of jealous love? In the right hands, love could be a murder weapon.

He had those hands.

Father closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He thrust his hand into his own stomach, not crying out; he was merging his essence with his essence, there was no pain. This was always a strange sensation, the swirling of energy inside him, a liquid Philosopher's Stone waiting to be used. He thought of love, specifically of its dark side—the last thing he needed was some gooey eyed woman as his servant. Father imagined a husband murdering his cheating wife, a crazed woman kidnapping the object of her desire…anything he could think of that would turn this homunculus into a killing machine.

His thoughts began to control the tide within, the section within his grasp hardening. Father pulled it free, siphoning off some extra energy to create a body.

When he was done, a slight girl stood before him. Long, dark hair, full lips…she looked almost like Lust had, but with a certain innocence about her. For a moment, Father feared he had made a mistake, but he caught the steely glint in Love's eyes, the certain lack of compassion—it was something like the look Envy had often possessed.

She would do.

"Love," Father addressed her. It was a strange way to speak to a killer, nothing at all as fierce as the names of his other homunculi. But as long as she did her job, he could handle the name. "How do you feel?"

"Good," she whispered, her smile empty. "I think I feel good."

Father nodded, considering his next move. He studied Love, spotted the mark of Ouroboros outlined faintly on her lips.

"Love, if I asked you to kill someone, how would you do it?"

The homunculus thought, her lower lip pouting as she caressed her cheek with a finger. "Kiss them," she decided finally. "There's something dangerous about my kisses."

That was a new one, but he could work with it. So who to send her after? He still needed the Flame Alchemist; though it would be easier to get rid of him, Mustang was necessary for the Promised Day. Edward, now, he could be killed. But how to achieve both goals? And then there was the brother to consider…

Father raised his hand, quickly transmuting a bit of the well-abused rock in his chamber into the face of the Colonel. "Love, what do you think of him?"

The homunculus studied the carving. "He's _gorgeous_," she gushed. "What's his name?"

Father smiled, gently. Playing matchmaker had never been so deadly. "Roy Mustang."

Love turned back to the rock, stroking the face. "I like him."

"He's strong, and an alchemist." It felt so strange, so counter intuitive to compliment the enemy, but hopefully this would work… "He's very loyal. Everyone wants him."

Love didn't look away from the hasty sculpture. "_I_ want him," she declared.

Father grinned. That was the bait, now for the hook. "You should have him," he responded. "But there's just one problem. He's in love with someone else—Edward Elric." Again he transmuted the rock, creating a likeness of the ex-Fullmetal Alchemist next to Mustang. "That's him. You'll never be able to break them apart."

Growling, Love spun away from the figures. He eyes were shining with both tears and malice. "How _dare_ he! I _want_ Roy—why should this Edward get him?"

Father decided to give his latest creation a nudge in the right direction. "You know, if you got rid of Edward, permanently…"

Her eyes widened, a smile splitting her face. "Then I could have Roy all to myself. He wouldn't come willingly…" she paused. "But I could always keep him here."

"That would work," Father agreed.

"Oohh!" Love clapped her hands. "I'll bring him here first, then bring him Edward's body! I'll show him what his mistake cost him."

Yes, Father had done well. This homunculus was strange, oddly…bubbly, but she was twisted.

"Where can I find him?"

Father debated. "He's probably at Central Headquarters—like I said, he's part of the military. Not now, of course, but in the morning. If he's not, he'll be with Edward in the hospital."

Love made a face, and nodded.

* * *

Across the city, Edward Elric also made a face. He had insisted that he be allowed to look in a mirror while the doctor changed his bandages, and he didn't like what he saw.

First of all, both eyes were open (though his right eye was swollen to match that entire side of his face), but he could only see from the left. The right was a strange, pale yellow, and showed him only darkness, which was terrifying; Ed glanced away, to Roy, who grabbed his hand in apology and encouragement. Of course, Edward didn't blame the man, but it was still disorienting, especially not being able to see the doctor work.

The rest of his injured side was speckled, bright red, angry, blistered flesh with charring breaking up the pattern. In short, he looked a mess, and felt even worse.

"I told you it was bad," Roy whispered.

"Nah," he tried, voice cracking. "It's not so bad. It's like when guys show off their scars, right? Now I can walk around and everyone knows how tough I am."

Despite the half-joking words, Edward was horrified. "Doc, any idea when my sight's going to be back?"

The doctor's hands paused, and Ed felt a dread rise in him. "Mr. Elric, I'm sorry to say this, but the tests have come back, and…it's doubtful you will ever see from this eye again."

Edward breathed, feeling Roy's hand tighten around his own. He looked at the man, saw the unshed tears in his eyes. "Roy, it's okay. Please don't blame yourself, I knew it had to be done. So I'm half-blind—I can handle it. At least I can see with one eye."

But Roy knew him better than that, and as soon as the doctor left the room, he cradled Edward carefully in his arms, doing what he could to distract him from his fate of a half-dark world.


	9. Chapter 9

Roy sat next to Edward, gently stroking the uninjured side of his face. How long had he gone without sleep, now? Since Ed woke up. But when was that?

Time seemed so unreal; it didn't matter, nothing did. He just had to stay with Ed.

Roy smiled. Yes, he was still guilty, but he was _so proud_ of the blonde. He was facing blindness in one eye, and scarring from his burns…he was once again missing his automail arm, and he didn't even need to mention what Edward had gone through in the past. But the boy was still fighting, still going strong, still refusing to give in.

"It all seems to happen to you, doesn't it, Ed?" he whispered, pushing blonde hair away from Edward's face. "But you're so strong…"

"Oh, yes, he's _so_ strong."

Roy whipped around, jerking Ed accidentally and causing him to stir. He found himself face to face with a rather pretty girl; her soft features were completely at odds with the venom in her voice.

The woman went on. "So perfect, Mr. Edward _fucking_ Elric." The cursing sounded so wrong in her mouth, and her lips were glistening—alarm bells went off in Roy's head and he stood, shushing Edward with a wave of his hand, poised to snap. "What's so perfect about him, huh? Look at his _face_."

Cold, hate filled eyes gazed around Roy, lingering on the red visible from the edges of Ed's bandages. "You're in love with _that_?"

"Yes," Roy answered slowly. "I love him more than anything. You can say all you want about his face, but to me, he's the most beautiful, perfect person ever."

The girl snarled, and the tiniest bit of liquid fell from her lips. The drop plopped on the floor, sizzling and creating a neat, pinprick hole.

Edward gasped behind him, before forcing himself up and kneeling on the bed, leaning against Roy. "Homunculus," he stated simply.

"That's right." The woman waved, and took a bow. "My name's Love, and honey, you are in for a _world_ of pain."

Roy's mind was racing. _Another_ homunculus? Did it ever end? And this one, Love…what was _that_ all about? "What do you want?"

Love batted her eyelashes, seeming in no hurry to fulfill her promise for pain. "I'm _so_ glad you asked," she gushed. "I'm here for _you_! You're pretty perfect yourself, _Roy_, although your taste is pretty questionable. I just have to educate you a little bit."

That was ominous; that was his cue to do something. He had to get Edward out of there. The boy knew this, and slid off the bed. Even from the corner of Roy's eye, he could see the sting even such simple movement caused Ed, could see the tinge of green rising in his face.

He slid an arm around the blonde as soon as he was upright. Ready.

Roy snapped.

Love squealed as he did so, unperturbed by the fire as any other homunculus; sure, it must have hurt her, but she seemed more peeved than anything. Still, this was all the opportunity he was going to get.

Roy put his hand behind Ed's legs, pulling him up and into his arms, running before the motion was completed. Even as he ran out the door, hospital guards were coming up the hallway to handle the disturbance.

"She can't be killed!" he shouted, pushing his way past them. "Shoot, but be careful, _she won't die_."

Roy missed, for the most part, their confused looks. He was too busy sprinting.

He turned a corner, and saw Love coming down the hall after him. A guard stepped in her way, and she grabbed him, kissing him on the lips. That was all Roy saw, but he could hear the scream, and the smell of melting flesh followed him down the hall.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted to himself. Where to go, where could he go? The military seemed the obvious option—but could he make it that far before the homunculus caught up, with Ed in his arms?

"Roy," the blonde gasped, as though he was reading his thoughts. "Just hide me somewhere, and get out."

"No!" Roy hissed.

Edward tried to argue, but he wouldn't let him. "No, it won't work. Didn't you see the way she looked at you? She's going to kill you, Ed."

He paused for a moment, and heard the faint pitter patter of running feet. He shifted Ed, spun around, and snapped. The homunculus, only 50 feet back or so, flared up.

Running again. "Why would she care about me?" Ed asked. "Father can't use me."

"I hate to tell you this," Roy panted. "But I think he's trying to use you to break _me_."

The boy was silent, which was good; running like this was hard enough without carrying on a conversation as well.

Just up ahead, Headquarters loomed, the largest building in Central. Another shift, another snap—missed, another—and Roy was sprinting up the stairs, yelling to the guards. "Shoot, shoot! Shoot her!"

Bewildered, they raised their weapons as Roy headed inside.

Right, left, left, up a flight of stairs—he burst through his team, into his office. He laid Edward down on the couch, before racing right back out the door, hovering just outside.

"Lieutenant, everyone ready. There's a homunculus on the way up."

Hawkeye raised her gun immediately, everyone else doing the same.

Love turned the corner, a hole in her shoulder slowly closing up, replaced by a dozen more bullets as his team fired. Roy himself snapped, glancing back at Ed, who looked tortured. That was understandable; after all, how must it feel to be so injured you couldn't do anything, when all you wanted was to help?

The homunculus stepped closer, and he snapped again, glaring a challenge towards Love. That bitch _was not_ fucking anything up, he was _done_ with Father's sick games.

Another round of fire and lead, and this time Love was slowing down. She stared, wide-eyed at a hole in her side that refused to close.

She wasn't healing

Just as Roy was about to alert his team, tell them to keep shooting, she leapt out the window and was gone.

"Roy?"

Edward's small voice. He stumbled into his office, still bursting with adrenaline, not quite believing Love would have made such a hasty escape. "I'm here, Ed."

"How…how was that _love_?" The boy looked distraught, woozy but hanging on to consciousness for an explanation. "She was so _wrong_. That's not—that's—"

"That wasn't love," Roy agreed, slumping onto the couch next to the blonde. "It was just a cheap imitation."

Perhaps satisfied, perhaps just exhausted, Edward collapsed into his side. Roy moved gently, careful now that he could be of the bandages swathing the boy's face, and laid him out more comfortably.

It seemed that nowhere was safe; even though Ed needed to get medical care…"I think we'll stay here," Roy whispered, settling down by the blonde's feet. After all, his office was, in all likelihood, much more secure than anywhere else.


	10. Chapter 10

Even injured, Edward wasn't one to sit still. He'd been stuck in Roy's office for _three days_.

"You can't keep me here forever," Ed whined, kneeling on the couch so as to talk to the man standing behind it.

"Not forever, just…"

"Until the Promised Day?" Edward challenged.

Roy wasn't even afraid to admit it. "_Yes_. Look, Father's sending all his homunculi after you—making new ones, actually—and you're in no condition to handle that."

Ed feathered his fingers over the right side of his face, wincing at the sting of the burns.

"He's right, Brother."

Edward whipped his head to the right, eyes widening and then narrowing in irritation as he realized he had done it again. Overreacted just because someone was on his bad side.

Alphonse, now in his line of vision, was serious. "See, you can't even handle me_ talking_ to you without freaking out just a little. What would you do if a homunculus attacked you? If Love came back?"

Ed threw himself down on the couch. "Kick her ass," he asserted. No one bought it.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," Roy murmured, raising Edward's legs to sit under them.

"I _know_," Ed moaned. "It's just so _boring_, staying in here all day. Even if I could just walk around outside for a minute…"

Roy sighed at his feet. "You're making this rather hard on me, you know." After checking to see that the man wasn't _too_ serious, Edward stuck his tongue out at him.

Alphonse looked thoughtful. "You know, Roy, it's not just Ed who's been cooped up. I've stayed here, and so have you, and the rest of the team has been taking shifts. We could all use a little…excursion."

Edward sat up, bouncing slightly as he watched Roy watching him. The man's eyes softened. "Fine," he murmured, leaning forward to give Ed a quick kiss on the forehead. "Let's go."

Ed jumped up, waiting by the door like an expectant puppy. Roy unlocked it and allowed Edward to race out, grabbing a confused Hawkeye on the way.

Once outside, Edward _almost_ regretted the decision to leave the office. Sure, in there it had been boring, but out here…there was so much stimulation. And though most of his senses were intact, the darkness obscuring half his view was disorienting when there was so much to _see_. He darted his head side to side, trying to make one eye do the work of two.

Roy placed an arm around his shoulder. "You okay?"

Ed wasn't about to give in. He was better than that. "Yeah. I can handle it."

The four set off along the street, Hawkeye still confused but going along with it. She was probably just as eager to move as the rest of them; she was nearing the end of her shift, and had been sitting outside Roy's office for a solid eight hours.

Edward smiled as he got used to the openness around him. This was _so_ much better than being stuck on that couch.

* * *

Father didn't leave his hideout. He just didn't. Yet here he was, standing next to his latest creation—Hope. After Love's failure, he wanted to see Hope in action. Perhaps Love had been a bad idea; Father hoped so. The alternative was that the Flame Alchemist and his little entourage were actually a match for his homunculi.

"Go," he ordered. Hope, long and with a face that was nothing but eyes, jumped down into the street obediently.

_Let's see how they fight with their hope being sucked away,_ Father thought as he watched the show.

* * *

Edward felt the homunculus coming before he saw it.

His cheery mood evaporated, eaten away by the despair that rose up in him. Ed barely registered Roy's arm slip away as he caught sight of the homunculus, tall and dark, its soulless eyes boring into the group. He was too caught up in doubts that he had thought he was past.

Did Roy really love him? Could someone so famous for being a womanizer really care about him, especially as broken as he had become in the last few months?

Out of the corner of his eye, Edward saw Alphonse struggling to keep fighting, his movements slow and his face contorted.

Al…

Ed dry heaved, clutching his stomach and allowing himself to fall to his knees. What if it wasn't a homunculus that had been controlling him? What if it really _was_ Alphonse who had sold him…?

Nothing was right; his past was suddenly cast in a new light, and the future…what future?

A harsh arm pushed him down, and Edward allowed himself to be moved. He caught a glimpse of Hawkeye running past him, her gun going off rhythmically. She seemed entirely unaffected…

The homunculus was howling, holding its arm and, then, its leg as Hawkeye continued shooting. Its hair was aflame, courtesy of Roy…but there were no red sparks.

* * *

It took all his willpower not to scream in frustration. How, why was this happening!? Father growled, watching the scene below him on the street. Edward was incapacitated, yes, and Alphonse could hardly move, but the other two…why weren't they slowing? Judging from the Flame Alchemist's face, he was distraught, but it wasn't affecting his ability to fight.

Losing control for a moment, Father transmuted the roof around him, curling it in on itself until it threatened to buckle.

Worse still, _why wasn't Hope healing himself_?

* * *

Roy, for the first time in his life, was glad to have taken part in the Ishbalan War.

It had been horrible, and somehow, this homunculus was recreating the desolation he had faced in Ishbal. But Roy had gone through it; he knew how to keep fighting despite the pain, keep going even though all you wanted to do was give up.

Ishbal had been hell, but if it meant he now was able to protect Ed, so be it.

Ignoring a fresh image of his team, dead on the Promised Day, Roy snapped, burning the homunculus's foot—not the target he had been aiming for, but it would do.

The homunculus was screaming, cursing…and not healing. Not even retreating, he apparently lacked a desire for self-preservation.

Well, that was fine with Roy.

He snapped again, and as the flames died out, he heard Father calling. "Hope, retreat!"

Hope? That was _sick_. Roy spun around, searching for the bastard. _There_! He snapped, but when the fire cleared, Father and _Hope_ were gone.

Roy turned, and knelt next to the gasping Edward, happy to be preoccupied. The empty feeling in his head cleared, and he hoped the same was happening for the boy.

"What," Edward panted, "was _that_?"

"Hope," Roy spat the name. "Father created a homunculus that takes away your hope."

"That's sick," Ed whispered, shivering and allowing himself to be scooted closer to Roy.

"I know."

Besides them, Al was also coming out of it. "How—how come you two weren't affected?" he asked, gesturing to Hawkeye, who was still standing ready to shoot.

Roy and Hawkeye glanced at each other. She lowered her gun. "We were both in Ishbal. If that taught us anything, it was that no matter how it looks, there's always hope."

* * *

_There's always hope…_it seemed like a silly thing to say, considering Ed officially couldn't walk out the door without putting himself and others in danger. But, at the same time, it was true.

He had seen it.

"You're right," he murmured, standing up. "There is always hope. Didn't anyone else notice it?"

Everyone just looked at him, confusion in their eyes.

Edward grinned. "Hope, he couldn't heal himself. And Love could for a while, but her energy seemed to drain pretty fast. The homunculi are getting weaker."

* * *

**So. In case anyone wants to see, I drew Edward after having been burnt.**

**Because I like him to be injured and needing someone's help, okay? So I can't get over his injuries, I'm sorry ;A;**

**But yes, if you want to get a better visual for what he looks like, head over to my deviantart (linked on my page) and click "I Still Think You're Beautiful" it will be right up near the top, under Newest Deviations.  
**

**I would put the link...but links hate me here ;A; **

**Anyway, hope you're enjoying, we're getting close to the end!**


	11. Chapter 11

Edward no longer felt compelled to complain about having to stay in Roy's office. It had been hours since Hope's attack, but the gathering darkness in the room unnerved him, and Ed couldn't stop _those_ thoughts from reentering his head.

Roy groaned, shrugging off his jacket and continuing on to unbutton his shirt. They were alone, Al camping outside with Breda. Edward watched in silence, curled up on the couch, as the man stretched and approached him.

"Winry's arriving tomorrow to replace your automail," he reminded Ed.

"Uh huh," Edward muttered. It was all the response he could muster.

Roy studied him for a moment. "Stand up for a minute, Ed."

Doing as he was bid, Edward tried to ignore the pricking in his feet, which had fallen asleep. Roy sat down on the couch to take his boots off, flinging them to the far side of the room. He stretched out, one leg thrown over the top of the sofa. He patted the area in between his splayed legs. "C'mere, Ed."

For a moment, Edward was shocked. Then he understood, and sat down in the indicated space, laying the top half of his body on top of Roy and curling up his legs.

The man was so _cozy_.

"We had a rough day. I figured we could use a little snuggling," Roy whispered, a smile on his face as he began to play with Ed's hair.

But despite Roy's light hearted comment, Edward was stuck on the fact that they _had_ had a grueling day. "Roy," he murmured, clenching his fingers against the man's chest. "When Hope attacked us…what did he make you think of?"

The man was silent for a moment, sighing before he answered. "The Promised Day. It's just a few days away, and I couldn't help but picture everyone dying." He gulped, and when Roy continued, his voice was thick. "Especially you."

Ed loosened his fist and drew his fingers gently down Roy's arm, the man wrapping it around him in response. "Nothing in the past?"

"Well, Ishbal. But losing you was a much more pressing thought."

"I thought about Al," Edward confessed, closing his eyes tightly against the memory. "I—I started to think maybe he _was_ the one who sold me…"

"Ed, you know that's not true."

"I know that _now_. But at the time…it was terrifying." Roy tightened his hold. Edward attempted, unsuccessfully, to press his face further into the man's chest. "And of course I thought of you. Roy, I'm _so scared_. I mean, what if this is the end? What if Father succeeds? And I can hardly help, anyway. I've not really had any time with you…and what time we have had has been filled with one crisis after another."

"Ed—"

But Edward refused to stop, still worrying. "I don't want to lose you before I get to really have you, without all this shit hanging over our heads." He brought a hand up, impatiently wiping at his eyes, immediately regretting it as his hand pressed against burnt flesh. "I'm a wreck, and I've _been_ a wreck the entire time we've been together, and I just want to be able to have you and me be together when I'm not all fucked up…"

"Edward, please calm down," Roy begged. Ed was hyperventilating shallowly at this point. "Please, Ed, you're going to hurt yourself, it'll be okay." He sat up, pulling Edward with him.

Ed sniffed. "But what if we don't make it? What if Father wins?"

"Then we'll die together," Roy stated simply. "I know that sounds drastic, but it's a comfort to me to know that we won't be alone."

"But what if you die and I somehow make it out?"

"Do you really have so little faith in me?" Roy teased.

Edward sniffed . "No, I know you can do it..."

"And there's nothing in this world that could prevent me from making sure you're okay too. So you have nothing to worry about."

Ed groaned, the reassurance doing nothing for him. "Then why am I still so afraid to lose you?"

"Edward," Roy breathed, "You could never lose me."

The man bent down, hesitant, and kissed him gently. Ed responded, his nose smarting slightly on the burned side. Luckily his lips had been spared from the fire. Roy broke away. "That didn't hurt?"

Finally, Edward smiled. "No." Well, maybe a bit, but did the man need to know?

Encouraged now, Roy leaned forward hungrily, once again kissing Ed. Seeing as he could count the number of times he and Roy had kissed on one hand, Edward was more than happy to do so again.

He jumped slightly when Roy licked at his lower lip, before conceding to the intrusion. A flash of blurred memory filled Ed's mind, of an altogether less pleasant man _forcing_ his tongue in…

No. This was Roy. And while Edward was still quivering, still not altogether comfortable with this kind of interaction, he was far too concerned about losing his lover to allow himself to be taken in by flashbacks of the whorehouse.

Roy pulled away, panting lightly. "You're not stopping."

Ed smiled up at him. "I know."

The man ran his hands up Edward's back, sending chills—good as well as bad—up his spine. "You're not afraid?"

"Not of you."

Roy's lips were turned up in a smile as he resumed, hands still roaming along Edward's shoulders, back, even sneaking around front, then back to play with his hair.

Suddenly he grabbed the edges of Ed's shirt, pulling gently. Edward raised his arm, not daring to breathe as Roy pulled the garment off. The again with the kisses, their chests pressing together.

For the first time in as long as Ed could remember, he was warm. He wanted more.

Fucking hell, he was turned on.

He clung to Roy, kissing harder, and the man moved his lips down, down to his neck. Edward let out a gasp, finally understanding why those perverts had made him do this for them…no, don't think about that.

Down again, to the collarbone, and Ed could do nothing but dig his fingers into Roy's hair and hold on. The man was grinning against him, glad to see that he wasn't afraid. But Edward could feel the shaking starting, and despite the pooling heat in his nether regions, despite the hardness he could feel beneath him—or perhaps because of it—he couldn't _not_ be scared anymore.

He held on for as long as he could, but when Roy came up for air he backed off, shaking like a leaf. "Roy, no more," he whimpered, half afraid the man wouldn't take the rebuff well.

But Roy was Roy. "I know," he laughed, hugging Ed to his chest in a comfortingly loose way. "You're shivering."

"Sorry," Ed muttered, embarrassed as always that he couldn't do better, that he couldn't forget.

"Ed, we've been over this. There's nothing to apologize for."

Edward pulled away just enough to look into Roy's eyes. "But what if this is our only chance?"

"It's not."

"But _what if_—"

Roy wouldn't let him finish. "Then I'd rather just curl up with you and feel you go to sleep next to me, and know you feel safe, than push you and get my pleasure, but abuse you in the process, because that's what it would be."

Ed was speechless. "I love you," he managed.

"I love you too."

* * *

**Because it's been a while since I updated anything and I wanted to write some fluff, which this story could use with a big action scene coming up.**

**Also I'm pretty sure this makes me a tease, ehehe don't you love me? ^U^**

**Coming up to the end, gasp! Let me know what you think~**


	12. Chapter 12

"I still can't believe you're letting me come," Ed murmured, newly-replaced automail arm clutching Roy's sleeve firmly.

"Ed…I love you more than anything, and to be honest, I didn't know I had this kind of feeling in me. I don't want you anywhere near Father today. But I also know you, and if I didn't bring you with me and everyone else, you'd come on your own."

Edward laughed nervously. "That's true."

"So," Roy continued, leading him down another street. "I'm going to make it easier for everyone."

"Thanks," Ed drawled, rolling his eyes. He spotted Alphonse up ahead, the rest of Roy's team in tow. He gulped, all bravado gone.

True, he was scared for himself—the tough guy he used to be had taken quite a bashing over the past few months, and though Edward was still itching to kick Father's head in, there was a large part of him that was quaking in his boots. But more than that, Ed was afraid for Roy, and for Al, people who were still on Father's list of sacrifices.

He couldn't take losing them.

"I guess it's time," Edward murmured as the two groups came together.

"The Promised Day," Alphonse agreed.

"Let's go," Roy ordered, and they all turned and began to walk down an alley.

"Remind me again," Al muttered quietly, so that only Ed could hear. "Why we're going exactly where Father wants us to be?"

"How else are we supposed to find him?" Edward answered. He didn't particularly want to go back to Father's little lair, but what else could they do?

The group entered the tunnel silently, and oddly enough, Ed felt better in the darkness; at least he didn't feel so awkwardly disadvantaged.

It wasn't long before a painfully familiar feeling washed over Edward. "Hope's coming," he called out softly.

And then the homunculus was upon them.

Ed spun, stabbing at Hope with his automail, which had been transmuted into his signature blade by Alphonse. But he wasn't fast enough, a terrifying image of a blood soaked Roy robbing him of his motor skills.

A flash of light lit up the semi-darkness, Hawkeye firing her gun. She hit Hope, but Edward _saw_ her hit Alphonse accidentally instead…

And then another flash, much larger as Roy snapped. His face, so determined even in the face of Hope's mental onslaught, shook Ed out of it long enough to see the second, feminine shape drop down from the ceiling.

"It's Love!" he shouted. "_Don_'_t_ let her kiss you!"

It sounded strange, he reflected, but that was the warning everyone needed.

There was blood on the ground, but Edward realized it was—at least mostly—Hope's, as he saw the homunculus staggering towards Falman with a chunk of his side missing.

After that, everything was confusion. Bangs and shouts filled the tunnel as Hawkeye and the others fired off their rounds, and Roy's fire occasionally illuminated the flying droplets of Love's poison. One landed on Ed's hand, but he ignored the pain, instead focusing on the scene in front of him: Fuery and Breda being bound by Hope.

_Fuck_. This wasn't happening.

But it was; the simple truth was, they were running out of ammo. And though Hope wasn't healing, and Love was doing so slowly, they weren't as affected by their wounds as a human would be.

Love got her lips around Al's arm, and he screamed. Edward lunged forward, cursing the fact that they were on his bad side, and felt his blade enter flesh.

The homunculus above him growled, snapping his blade.

So much for his offense.

Love pushed both brothers to the ground, binding their hands. Edward noticed the careful way she dealt with Alphonse, securing his hands in such a way that he couldn't clap.

Father had been quite thorough in his instructions.

Looking around, Ed saw that everyone, including Roy (whose gloves now hung in tatters) had been similarly subdued.

Hope laughed, and began dragging his prisoners along. Edward ran ahead, ignoring Love's hiss, and grabbed Roy's hand. It was awkward, but at this point, discomfort was way past being a priority.

They were brought into a room, not the main one but similar. A massive transmutation circle had been scratched into the floor, and Father stood at its head.

"Good job, you two." He smiled as they were all dumped into the circle. Ed briefly considered trying to wiggle out—but there was no way he would actually _escape_, not with Father and his two homunculi watching.

There was nothing he could do.

Father began to laugh, transmuting the makeshift ceiling above them away, revealing the moon. "Now…now I become _God_!"

He began the transmutation.

Light flashed around them, growing as Father threw in his homunculi as well—judging from their cries, it was an unexpected move.

"What are you doing!?" Love shouted. "We served you!"

"You're dying," Father responded. "Bleeding out. A shameful, pathetic way to go. You're not worthy to be my servants."

And now it was their turn. Ed could feel the energy building, and looked at Roy. It wasn't until he saw the shining in the man's eyes that he realized he was crying as well.

Their hands were still locked together.

The light grew brighter, unbearable, and everything was shaking—Edward felt like he was going to explode—

Everything stopped.

Ed opened his eyes—when had he closed them? There was Father…so he couldn't be dead.

Unless the dead could dream.

Father screamed, firmly ridding him of that possibility. "No! NO! _I WILL BE GOD_!"

He stepped into the circle with them, eyes manic.

"He's going to use himself," Roy whispered.

And again, the transmutation started. More light, more pressure—but Father was still screaming, as were the homunculi. Ed squinted, trying to distinguish shapes…suddenly the light died down, and he caught a glimpse of Father.

He was disintegrating.

"He's too weak," Ed realized. "He's split himself too many times…"

Roy's eyes widened, and he shoved his bound hands into his pocket, pulling out an extra glove. He slipped it on expertly, and just as the light died once more, he snapped.

Father shouted once more, bits of him falling to the ground and turning to ash, then nothing. He grew smaller and smaller—they were free from the transmutation circle, they could move—the homunculi on the ground were silent, also fading—and then Father was nothing but a pile of ashes.

Edward forced himself up and over to the pile. After everything he'd been through, he thought he deserved at least one tough guy line.

"Bitch, I'm an atheist."

* * *

**Yeah so I'm pretty much shit at action scenes.**

**I'm sorry ;A; I'm a lover, not a fighter~(and yes, you can kill me for saying that XD)**

**Only one chapter left to wrap it all up. Who's also sad?**


	13. Chapter 13

It couldn't be true. It just…_couldn't_ be.

Edward wasn't walking around the park, hand in hand with the love of his life. Father hadn't been defeated, the homunculi weren't gone…

Except it was true, Ed was holding Roy's hand, and Father and his creations were done for.

Edward was almost afraid to smile; the scene was so perfect, it felt as though even that tiny movement could fracture it.

"You know," Roy murmured conversationally, "this is our first real date."

Ed nodded, beaming. He couldn't bring himself to form words.

The man stopped for a moment, looking down at him. "You're not rethinking us, are you? Now that everything's…normal, you're not bored with me…?"

"No!" Edward couldn't stop himself from laughing. "No, not at all. Don't worry so much."

Smiling once again, Roy continued walking.

Ed went on. "It's just, I can't believe everything's real. After everything that happened, it's hard to accept that we can just go on, you know? But I'm so _happy_! Everyone's okay! Al's fine, he's got his body, and I've got you…"

The man with him faltered, his grin slipping infinitesimally. He slowed, pulling Edward's hand to bring him closer. "I just feel bad, you know?" he murmured. "Everyone's fine, you're right. I'm alright—better than alright, fantastic, since I've got you with me—and yeah, Al got his body back. I just feel like you really got slighted. Everyone's benefited in the long run…except maybe you."

Edward had been expecting this argument; Roy was having a harder time being happy they were alive, instead getting caught up on the path to this point. "But you're _wrong_." Ed tugged Roy's arm gently, pulling the man towards a park bench. They sat. "I've thought about this a _lot_, and…there's so many points at which I could have changed things. Losing my alchemy, the whorehouse, my face…all of it."

"That's my point," Roy whispered."

"But even though I could change it, I wouldn't."

The man snapped his head up, looking Ed in the eye. "You're insane."

Edward truly _could not_ stop smiling. "No. I have to look at the consequences. Without me giving up my alchemy, Al wouldn't have a body…and that's not something I could accept. I've been chasing that for him for years, so my abilities were a small price to pay. Being sold…that's the hardest one to get over, even now. But if that hadn't happened, I don't think you would have fallen in love with me."

Edward paused to allow Roy to think that one through. Finally, the man nodded. "True. I never would have gotten close enough to you without that. But—"

"But nothing. If it means I get to keep you, then it was worth it."

Roy's eyes glimmered as he leaned down. Edward smiled into the kiss, only breaking away to make his final point. "And my face? Well, it could be worse. Besides, I think I like being able to turn a blind eye to the world…I can focus on being with you in a…_special_ way."

Roy laughed. "That's a bit of a stretch. But I see your point."

"I'm just…ecstatic," Ed concluded.

"Me too."

Again, a kiss, this one longer. Edward actually did thank his partial blindness in that moment—he could hear people scurrying away from the strange couple on the bench, a burnt boy and a man in uniform, and had no desire to see it as well.

Finally Roy allowed him to break for air. "You know what the best part is?"

"What?" Ed asked, somewhat breathless.

"I have _forever_ to look forward to now. I didn't want to scare you, but I was worried too—every time we kissed, I had to wonder if it would be the last time…and now I don't. You're all mine for as long as you want to be."

"That'd be forever, then."

Edward and Roy stared at each other, silent. Just smiling was enough. There aren't usually words enough to describe love, let alone a love that, so new, had already been through so much. They settled for watching each other.

The couple was quiet for a moment. Edward leaned into Roy's shoulder, just watching the leaves dance in the wind. It was so cheesy, wasn't it? But it was perfect.

"You know," he murmured finally. "There's one thing I don't understand."

"Hmm? What's that?" Roy had taken to playing with his hand.

"Why was Father so weak in the end?" Ed asked. "I mean, I know he'd made lots of homunculi, but…he was totally drained."

Surprisingly, Roy had an answer. "You know, I had wondered that too. But I think I figured it out; the last two homunculi, Hope and Love…those are really essential emotions. Even for someone like him…I think he was a bit like me, actually. I didn't know I could love until I got close to you—Father probably didn't know he had the emotions in him, and when he took them out…he didn't realize how important they were. If I lost all my hope and love, I'd be a wreck, too."

"Yeah, but they weren't _really_ hope and love…Love was horrible, and Hope just made everyone hope_less_. I don't think that counts as the actual emotion."

"Father twisted them," Roy murmured. "He wasn't capable of real love, real hope, no…so he took the emotions and made them dark. If they hadn't been trying to kill us, I'd actually feel pretty bad for Hope and Love…"

Ed nodded silently. It made sense; they were essential emotions, and they were fragile. Love could just as easily make a life as break it, and the same went for hope.

Again, he watched the park, comfortable with Roy beside him, the man's arm curled around his shoulders. It was really and truly over; they could just _live_ now, together…if Edward didn't explode from happiness first.

"Ed, what we have is real, you know that?" Roy spoke softly, the words just barely audible. But Ed could feel the emotion behind them. "Father might have made his little counterfeit versions, but you are the most beautiful, hopeful person I've ever met. And…you just can't fake what we have."

Roy looked up to the sky, and Edward followed his gaze. That was it, this had to be a dream—because two nightingales could not be flying together in an otherwise empty sky. "Edward Elric, you mean the world to me… you can't fake a love like ours."

* * *

**The End. :)**

**Honestly, this is really emotional for me. I've been working on this for a while, since the beginning of Sold, and to see the series wrap up...it's a great feeling, but also sad, because, I mean, it's ****_over_****. **

**This is far from my best piece, but I like it overall...especially the ending.**

**Just because I'm weird like this, I have to explain the titles... Sold was obvious, but I wanted to keep in the monetary theme, so I went with Bartered (because of the deal at the end), and then Counterfeited...hopefully this last chapter makes it clear why I called this one by that name.**

**Anyway, yes, it's over. But I'm never done writing! So do me a couple favors, please? One, let me know what you thought of this. Two, I have a poll going on (and you can see the link to vote at the very top of my profile, even before my name). It's about a story idea, and I'd appreciate you voting (though of course it is by no means the only thing I have coming up). Last, do check back for more stories. You guys are great, and your reviews just inspire me in ways you wouldn't believe; honestly, it would be an honor for you all to keep reading me.**

**That's all the touchy feely now haha. In short...hope you enjoyed :)**


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